The Game
by thanks-for-the-breasthat
Summary: Sometimes Clarke's plans backfire in the best way possible. Smutty one shot.


**I know, I know, I should be working on a new chapter of ****_Justifying the Means_**** or ****_Babysitting_****, but this just begged for me to write it... (originally on tumblr)**

It starts out rather innocently, a casual wink across camp when she catches him looking at her. He'd just thrown her a sly smile and ten minutes later they were outside the electric fence with him pressing her into a tree, a thigh between her legs.

Next time Clarke passes him in the hallway and gives him a firm tap on the ass while the new cadets are watching. Three hours later when she sees him around the bonfire, he runs a palm down to her backside and squeezes while she blushes and slaps his hand away.

For all his focus as a leader, he's sure easy to distract, she realizes, and turns it into a game when there's few troubles to deal with. She'll lean over the table when he's across from her, pointing to a map coordinate when she knows he has a view straight down her shirt.

In a way it's exhilarating, teasing him like that, because it's not something she's ever done before. Seeing Bellamy's eyes darken when she knows they'll be in a meeting for the rest of the day, thinking about sneaking off to their cabin as soon as it's over is sometimes the only thing that gets her through debates between the adults (though really, they're all adults now) that she and Bellamy could have solved in a few minutes of tossing around suggestions.

Sometimes while she's arguing with someone across the council table, she'll rest a palm on Bellamy's thigh, tracing up and down his tense quad while she's yelling. She'll watch his face out of the corner of her eye, the way his jaw will feather when she reaches up his inner thigh, rubbing over the growing hardness in his trousers.

Those days always end in desperate, straining sex that leaves her breathless and quivering under him, sometimes laying on his slick chest if she feels confident enough.

And then comes the day where she refuses him even that and it somehow becomes more than a game. It's just for fun. Delaying the reward makes it that much sweeter in the end she tells herself when she's throbbing and rubbing her thighs together in bed, pretending to be asleep.

He groans when she doesn't respond to his strained whispers of her name and her stomach clenches when she hears him jerking himself off, his head falling back on the pillow when her name slips out in a quiet moan.

The next morning, she wakes up with a fire in her belly that refuses to go away even after a cold dip in the lake. She sees him gesturing wildly in the air when talking with Miller and thinks about his wide palms sliding over her bare stomach and into her panties.

He wets his lips before he chews out a cadet and she can only think about his tongue tracing over her nipple. Her thighs tense and she turns away before she can imagine his tongue other places on her body.

He's unintentionally tormenting her because _she's_ the one who wants the buildup of the anticipation. And she wants him to agonize just as much as she is.

At lunch she stares him straight in the eye across the table when she bites into an apple, licking up the juice dripping down her fingers. That catches his attention for half a moment and he pauses his conversation with Jasper who is completely oblivious to the whole exchange.

She only stands up with a sly grin on her face, walking away with a slight sway to her hips, obvious in the tight pants she'd picked out especially for that day.

He's observing the cadets in their evening drills when she sees him next, his arms crossed over his chest. She strides over to him, and catches the look he gives her out of the corner of his eye, the hungry glint that makes her feel like _his_. Before, she would've balked at the prospect of "belonging" to someone, now it just sends heat into her belly.

"Everyone in order?" she teases.

He just gives a grunt, glancing down her body.

"Just thought you might want to know that I'll be going to bed early again," she says casually because it's too much fun.

"Oh?"

"I'm just tired," she sighs and bites her lip when she meets his hungry gaze. "You understand, right?" She even bats her eyelashes.

And he's speechless. "Uh, actually, not really."

She pinches him through his black uniform trousers and winks. "See you later."

That night it takes even more self-restraint not to roll over and kiss the sense out of him. He doesn't bother to take care of himself that night, just pulling her back against his chest, his erection against her ass.

The next morning, he's already gone by the time she's awake and she's a little disappointed when she remembers that he and the cadets are away on a day trip to the grassy, rolling hills a few kilometers away where they run through drills on different terrain.

So Clarke fishes around in Medical for patients to help, mostly just minor cuts and sprains to attend to, nothing that requires too much thought, but it doesn't keep her distracted.

By the time evening rolls around and she shuffles off to their empty cabin, thinking that the cadets and their officers are just camping in the fields for the night, she's tired anyway, and just wants to get some real rest instead of trying not to grind back against her boyfriend's erection.

So she just strips out of her clothes, groaning and collapsing in bed in just her underwear and one of Bellamy's old shirts with a tear in the collar. She tucks her toes into the blankets and spreads out over the whole bed, drifting off into sleep, trying to push Bellamy's hands, freckles, and face out of her mind.

She's so close to finally falling asleep that she doesn't hear the door creak open, Bellamy's heavy boots clomping over the wooden floor. She barely registers the dip of the mattress until his hands are brushing her hair away from the back of her neck and pressing his lips to her skin.

Clarke lets out a little surprised breath, goose bumps rising on her arms and stomach tightening. Her head tilts slightly towards him when his hands slide down her back, firm and demanding as he grabs the curve of her ass and bites at her throat.

"I know you're awake," he breathes under her ear and her toes curl in the blankets when she hears him kick his boots to the floor, the scent of pine and sweat and wood smoke filling her nostrils.

"Mmm," she just moans with a smile into the pillow as he rubs over her hip.

"And I know what you've been doing for the past two days," he says, voice low, as he tugs her underwear down her hips. "I've spent _the entire day_," he punctuates as he tears her underwear over her legs, "thinking about coming back and _fucking_ you, and if you think you can just pretend to be asleep again. . ."

Clarke's breath hitches when his hands skim up her inner thigh, testing her center with a swipe of his finger.

He grunts. "You've been waiting for me, haven't you, Princess?" he whispers into her throat, nipping along her jawline.

God, if teasing him for a day does this to him, she'll put herself through that cruel anticipation every hour of the day. He's always gentle with her, making sure she finishes first, and even in their most desperate times, he's never grabbed her like this. It's _hot_ the way he's not afraid to bite at her skin, laving his tongue over the nip when he bears down too hard.

A whimper slips out when he traces her opening but doesn't go in.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I _teasing_ you?"

She's throbbing with need already, her face in the pillow, tensing when she hears the rustle of fabric, the clink of his belt.

"You can't just lean over the fucking table with your shirt open," he growls. She gasps when he tugs her up onto her knees. "And not expect me to do anything about it."

Clarke's fingers clench into the pillow and she squeezes her eyes shut, arching back against his hard member that's just rubbing over the wetness gathering between her thighs.

He's always said that he wanted to see her face when they had sex, to watch her as she comes. Apparently he doesn't want that all of the time because there's nothing gentle or affectionate in the way his fingers are digging into her hips, the way the clasps of his officer's jacket are digging into her back, her shirt sliding up as she leans over.

"Bellamy," she groans pleadingly.

"Hmm, Princess?" he teases, bending over her to nibble the back of her ear.

"_Please_."

He reaches behind her to position himself at her opening, tip wet and _so close_. "Please _what_?"

She swallows hard, turning her face from the pillow. "_Fuck_ me."

He grunts when his hips surge forward and she cries out in surprise. His thrusts are hard and relentless, hips pounding into hers.

Clarke moans, crying out into the pillow and the hand not grasping her hips to steady her against him reaches forwards to push her shoulders down when she tries to rise. He jerks her hips back up when her legs start to give out and then tugs her up into his lap.

Bellamy mutters curses into her shoulder when his arm wraps around her waist, steadying her as his hips roll steadily into hers.

Her fingers dig into the arm around her, a hand reaching back to grasp his hair. The coil in her stomach is wound tight and she cries out when his free hand slides down her stomach, rubbing over her clit.

It isn't lovemaking for the sake of pleasing each other. He's taking her hard and fast and for the sake of _fucking her_ because that's what he wants and the fact that he's doing it at all sends her over the edge beneath his calloused fingertips faster than she's ever gone before.

With one final jerk of his hips, he's groaning into her throat, arm tightening around her as his whole body quakes and she feels him spill inside of her.

"Fuck, Clarke," he moans, breath hot in her ear.

Soon after, he's releasing her and they're tumbling down onto the bed in a pile of shaking limbs. "If two days of tormenting you is what it takes for you to do that again," she says with a wry grin against his shoulder. "I'm more than willing to torture myself."

"You liked it that much?"

She runs a hand over the swells of his abdominals. "Maybe you should just try again and find out for yourself."


End file.
